a tale of two lovies . . .

 

"It was the best of mom ideas, it was worst of hiding places,
it was the age of being independent, it was the age of needing his Night-Night"

I normally wouldn't mess around with Dickens, but it is Love Thursday!

Here's the story. When I was pregnant with Ellen, my dad bought her a squishy, pink, cloth doll. She grew to love this doll, and she named it "Soft Baby." She has slept with Soft Baby every night of her life, including nights at Oma's house, sleepovers, and zoo campouts.

Several years ago, before Charlie was a glimmer, we lost Soft Baby in the Phoenix airport. For one hour, we scoured restrooms, concourses and waiting areas. Several times during the search, Steve had to grab me by the shoulders and say, "Pull yourself together! She's watching you." I was devastated.

As I crawled under chairs and tables, I kept thinking about an article that I read in graduate school. The article, written for folks working in the area of child abuse and neglect, explained how important it is for parents to show love and respect for their children's special dolls, blankets, and lovies. It made so much sense to me. I'm a sucker for connection, so I think (and hope) I would have done that intuitively, but understanding it from a research perspective has really helped me in my parenting research.

Of course, I’m not talking about emotionally investing in every Webkinz that makes it way into our house (although I do have a thing for the chubby penguin). But, I really do believe that those special dolls, and the relationships that our children establish with them, should be respected and valued. It sends children the message, "If it's important and valuable to you, it's important and valuable to me."

Luckily, we found Soft Baby stuffed in the zipper compartment of my carry-on bag. Ellen thought she had “smothered to death” so I re-fluffed her and gave her CPR (seriously). Reunited and it felt so good.

When we got back to Houston, I set out to find a back-up Soft Baby. The idea of losing her again was just too stressful. I looked high and low, but no luck. We ended up taking Soft Baby to the veterinarian’s office and having a GPS tracking micro-chip implanted. Relax, I'm kidding.  

Fast-forward to Charlie and his love affair with Night-Night, the monkey lovie. Somewhat traumatized by what we refer to as the Arizona Soft Baby debacle, I bought a back-up chimp.

Steve went along with the understudy monkey on one condition: "The monkeys must live in parallel universes. They must never be out at the same time and, for God's sake, man, Charlie must never know."  Yes, Captain.

Two weeks ago, Charlie found the back-up monkey. The three little guys are as thick as thieves (and equally mischievous). Last night I tried to explain that we only need one Night-Night, but Charlie set me straight, "Charlie loves two Night-Nights. Not one. We friends. We nice to friends, right Ma-Ma?"

Anyone got a barrel?

 

How 'bout a good lovie story? 

Comments

[Ginna]

I came here through Shutter Sisters, and this post cracked me up because the EXACT same thing happened to me, except even worse. My son fell in love with a plush fishie I got him for Christmas one year, and then I got another--just for the reasons you said. He found it and then of course he had two. Then we ran across one at the bookstore one day, and he, not understanding that it didn't belong to him was already sucking on the fin by the time I found him.
And I have spent so many hours searching high and low for the main fish--the "mama fish." When she's lost I just feel so terrible.
Anyway, sorry for the long comment but--I couldn't help myself!!

[Kelly]

I loved your post because I have been there! Unfortunately, our results weren't quite as good as yours. We lost my daughter's beloved blanket (called "Binky"), also at an airport!! She was 4 years old and we were arriving at the San Francisco airport. She was carrying her pillow with Binky stuffed inside the pillowcase. With all the commotion of getting our luggage and greeting the excited family members who came to pick us up, no one realized she had set it down and didn't have it until we were at my sister-in-law's house. We went back to look for it, made many phone calls...all to no avail. It's been five years and I still feel bad about it whenever it comes to mind. My SIL saved the day by making a new blanket immediately (although hers was a quick fleece one and Binky was knitted by hand) and somehow my daughter grew to accept it as her new Binky. She has slept with this new blanket every night since, but I still get very sentimental about the original Binky that she had for the first four years of her life.

Sorry this got so long. I just couldn't believe the similarities in our stories! Could there perhaps be a THIRD monkey purchase in your future??

Love your blog. This is my first visit but I'll be returning! Happy Love Thursday!

[Secret Agent Mama]

One of my friends did the exact thing with two lovies!! I haven't done it yet.

[Renae C]

Then there is my version of the double lovey story.

My older daughter, now 9, has a "special blankey" that she too has slept with EVERY night of her life, regardless of circumstance and location. Like Ellen, she is a 3rd grader, and I keep thinking peer pressure will soon intervene, but neither church friends, nor school friends, nor older cousins nor girl scouts has yet been able to part them.

Sarah, my younger, got a very soft, almost flat, pink bear before she was born. It soon became the favorite lovey, and after several near misses, none as dramatic as the Arizone debacle - I too decided I would get a second bear. Unfortunately, the first bear had been well enough loved already that what little stuffing he had was smushed into his arms and legs, leaving his torso and neck quite limp. So, I tried to substitute the new, identical bear, to no avail. "Fluffy bear" was not even close to being the equivalent to "squishy bear". He gets loved and played with - and in a laundry pinch will work for a while - but "squishy bear" is THE only bear for Sarah.

So moms, well intentioned though you may be, know that the twin lovey trick does not always work!

[Shalet]

So sweet! Now you need a backup backup monkey. Something akin to Seuss's bee watcher watcher. :o)

Happy Love Thursday!

[Farrah]

Finn is not having the 2nd lovey. He cannot be duped! In Finn's world there is only one. He won't even entertain the notion of another. I did manage to get him to agree to get a second one and he even picked it out (same type of blanket, etc.). Where is it now you ask? Sayer is sleeping with it. LOL!

[carissa]

Oh... i could so visualize you searching frantically in the airport... with your heart sinking! Relieved to hear that it had all worked out!

awe... now... TWO lovies... life is good!

[nickythomas]

we lost Djinn our monkey on a train recently. backup monkey (or evil twin as he is known) was immediately bought into play and rejected. Broken hearted crying ensured for 2 full nights then her older sister (2 1/2) informed us that the evil twin smellt 'of new' and so we covered it in milk, dropped it in the garden and generally abused it for an hour then washed it. Peace that night. Evil twin has now grown to look very much like the original Djinn and we need to find another backup. phew.

[Melody A.]

(For some reason my google reader kicked you out so now I'm catching up! I thought you weren't posting.)

My older one has a "nigh nigh". She picked a blanket that I made for her. After a few incidences of leaving it at home then having to come home to get it I set out to find the fabric again to make another. No luck. Lesson learned so with my younger who attached to a "nigh nigh" I bought two backups and successfully had been able to switch them out so that they are wore out evenly. But, alas I have lost two of them. She has one and hopefully won't lose that one. Gotta find those blankets. I know they are here somewhere...

[Barb]

I can still remember the trauma when my blankie AND my whole box of favorite dolls was picked up by the trash collectors -- never to be seen again! My mom underresponded. She was a good mom, but not feeling enough empathy that day. I have yearned for decades for the comfort I had before that fateful day.

As a result, I was super careful with dolls, blankets, etc. with my own kiddos.

Thanks for letting me remember.